After months of pink and fun marketing, Barbie is finally in theaters. Lots of social media cuteness and engaging trailers led us to believe this movie was for everyone. IF YOU LIKE BARBIE, THIS MOVIE IS FOR YOU. IF YOU HATE BARBIE, THIS MOVIE IS FOR YOU.
But what if you’re absolutely indifferent to Barbie? I’m a gay dude not particularly inclined to pink— well the color. Wink-Wink. Also half black-half white from Latin America; there, girls play with Barbie but also with a whole ’nother host of feminine icons… Perhaps, this movie is really mostly for people who feel some type of way about Barbara Millicent Roberts.
Nevertheless, I like movies, so I watch them. And you can bet your ass I’d watch this glittering extravaganza after such a campaign of sparkly shenanigans.
BOY, WERE WE DUPED. EVERYTHING YOU THINK YOU KNOW ABOUT BARBIE IS ONLY THE PURPOSELY CRAFTED GLITTERY TROJAN UNICORN PUBLICITY WIZARDS CONJURED TO ENTRAP YOU.
This is not a disclaimer but a warning: No Mattel, I mean, matter what you heard, this ain’t a kids’ movie. The PG-13 rating should have been your first clue. There will be spoilers. And rants. Also probably incendiary opinions born out of 50-plus years of dealing with people in many countries. Plus the exponentially increasing amount of swearing as I expound this dumpster fire of a movie. You have been warned and disclaimed. Get some water.
HIYA, BARBIE!
Our film starts with something the trailers already gave us. Little girls discover a woman doll; a thing better than those infant dolls they’ve been forced to play with until then. This to the monumental “Thus Spoke Zarathustra” reminiscing of an iconic scene of 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968). You could call it homage, but that moment feels not only like plagiarism but an insult as the movie progresses.
After the destruction of infant dolls by enraged pigtailed girls, Stereotypical Barbie (Margo Robbie) awakes in her dream house. That (stereotypical) is the denomination the film gives to her, even though she is the one entity that embodies true Barbie-ness. Her day starts with the usual playful imaginary things. She showers without water, drinks coffee from empty mugs, and floats to her car. Dame Helen Mirren narrates, but her contribution is so vague and sporadic, you forget the movie is supposed to have a narrator.
IN BARBIE, EVERY FEMALE DOLL HAS THE SAME NAME: BARBIE— REGARDLESS OF RACE, PROFESSION, OR NATURE. AND BY NATURE I’M TALKING ABOUT THE MERMAIDS. LUCKILY WE DON’T HAVE CENTAUR BARBIES. AND OBVIOUSLY, ALL THE BOY TOYS ARE KENS.
Stereotypical Barbie (from now on Main Barbie) goes around town in an expositional montage to show us she lives in a matriarchy. Her pink Cadillac takes her from place to place, and we see every occupation— occupied by a female. The joke is supposedly that they say, “Hi, Barbie!” to each other over and over again. However, there are at least two exceptions to the name rule. One is Barbie’s best friend Midge, who happens to be pregnant, and the other is Allan, a boy doll.
Our heroine ends up at the beach, where we meet Main Ken (Ryan Gosling). The narrator surges to tell us how Barbie’s days are always awesome, but Ken’s days are only awesome when he has Main Barbie’s attention. And… Strike One!
Main Ken greets Main Barbie. She answers. Her greeting turns into the fukken mockingjays from the Hunger Games Saga, repeating the same cheerful tune ad nauseam. Here we also meet the other Kens as the cacophony of Hi’s goes on and on. For some reason, never disclosed, Main Ken and Exotic Ken (Simu Liu) are rivals. What is the point of this rivalry? None— it’s just frigging lazy writing; some lackluster manufactured conflict to resolve later with a music montage.
Trying to show off for Barbie, Main Ken fumbles and breaks something. Before he can get to the ambulance, he and Exotic Ken have an altercation. Their exchange is odd. You could sue the scriptwriters for plagiarizing your gay porn dialog and win without ever setting foot in court.
I WONDER IF THAT SEXUALLY AMBIGUOUS MOMENT IS WHAT MADE THAT NASHVILLE PREACHER RUN TO CURSE BARBIE. PERHAPS IT BROUGHT MEMORIES OF HIS OWN YOUTH.
Cured by the magic of Barbie Land, the boy-toy asks his mistress if he may stop by her house later. She’s like, sure whatever. We’ll only have that girls’ night party we have every night.
With the nightly shindig in full swing, the Kens do pirouettes competing for Main Barbie’s attention. She’s more interested in chatting with the other girls about their perfect lives, how every day is the same wonderful thing; all this while shimming in choreographed ecstasy until Main Barbie asks if any of them ever think about dying.
The music comes to a scratching halt, and everybody stares at her in alarmed confusion. Main Barbie curse-corrects with a simple elaboration after a deep breath. “I’m dying to dance!” All cheer and the party continues until it fades out to Main B and Main K under a full moon.
This scene shows Main Barbie dismissing Main Ken as he wonders if he could stay the night. She asks what for, and he doesn’t know; only that it seems logical since they are boyfriend and girlfriend. She doesn’t see a reason for it since they are in Barbie’s Dream House, not Barbie and Ken’s Dream House. And the other Barbies are still there because the party ain’t over yet. The Pink Mistress sends her boy-toy on his way, and the camera pans out as sad boy leaves for parts unknown.
BARBIE IS BASICALLY A WHIMSICAL REENACTMENT OF GROUNDHOG DAY (1993) UNTIL THINGS START TO GO ARRAY FOR OUR PROTAGONIST. THIS DISCONCERTING TURN OF EVENTS TAKES HER TO WEIRD BARBIE’S DOORSTEP.
Get your writing materials out because we’re about to learn some lore. Dun Dun Dun. According to Weird Barbie (Kate McKinnon), what Main Barbie is experiencing is the emotional state of the girl playing with her in the real world. The same reason why Weird Barbie turned out the way she is now. Her owner left her in that state of “weirdness” with her chopped hair and scribbled face— disjointed and Cuckoo. Dumb story short, sorry, long story short, Main Barbie shall go to the real world to solve her shit.
The one thing you can’t deny here is the alluring artistry in costume and set designs. Barbie Land is beautiful, and the way to navigate between worlds is an even more visually pleasing transportation montage. Coming and going between the dolls’ Queendom and the real world are some of the best moments of the film.
Logically, they have a farewell get-together. The other Barbies reassure Main B, she’s going to be loved and hugged and applauded out there; all strong women owe their power to her— she’s their hero. With that certainty, our fashionable protagonist leaves to mend what’s broken.
On the first leg of her trip, she discovers the boy-toy stowaway. She tells him he’ll only be in the way. But Main Ken has a powerful reason to accompany her; Exotic Ken double-dared him to go, so he cannot return defeated and look uncool. This (if you think logically) is as powerful as Barbie’s own reason to visit the real world: avoid cellulite. So, after a fabulous traveling montage, Barbie and Ken enter the real world clad in 1990s neon roller-skating regalia.
OUR PROTAGONISTS LOOK OUT OF PLACE IN THE DRAB REALITY GERWIG CREATED TO CONTRAST WITH BARBIE LAND; THUS, PEOPLE STARE AND LAUGH AT THEM. PREPARE YOURSELF BECAUSE BARBIE GOES DOWNHILL FROM HERE.
Interestingly, Main B keeps asking why men are staring at her; there are both men and women staring and laughing at her, so— dissonance much? And this is just the beginning of all the times the film will tell you one thing while showing the opposite or distortion of its narration.
HI, KEN!
All the attention, far from encouraging Main Barbie makes her feel insecure and conflicted. Almost at the beginning of the film one Barbie said she could handle conflicting emotions amid other vapid wordiness. How is it possible that the embodiment of Barbie-ness cannot handle emotions now? Well, remember that’s exactly why she’s in the real world— solving that crippling emotional discomfort, plus the cellulite. Main Ken, on the other hand, feels almost embraced by the environment.
Main Barbie sees construction and goes there in search of feminine energy to cleanse her clogged chakras. There’s something about this movie that feels atemporal; not only because it never tells us when it’s happening but because it’s stuck in 1993 behavioral clichés. The all-male construction crew is on break and catcalls Main B as soon as she engages them. Because that’s what guys do whenever they see a woman dressed like a lunatic. The fact that they’re doing this with Main Ken beside her, shows how little the writer and director knows about 1993, or 2023 for that matter. Ken is a buff dude and these aren’t bikers outside a dive bar at midnight. It’s fukken stupid. Strike Two! The crew’s innuendo is acknowledged by Main Barbie stating that she doesn’t have a vagina and Ken doesn’t have a penis.
OUR PROTAGONIST’S STATEMENT ABOUT HERS AND HER CO-STAR’S GENITALS IS JUST THE TIP OF THE ICEBERG REGARDING HOW PAINFULLY UNFUNNY BARBIE CAN BE. ITS HUMOR IS MOSTLY BASED ON EXHAUSTED MEN-HATING TROUPES AND LUDICROUS SELF-AWARENESS.
As the duo leaves the construction workers, Main B comments on how everything feels so masculine here. It’s as if the world is upside down. The camera zeros in on Ken upon this realization, hinting at the villain ready to be unleashed. ‘Cause yeah that’s where this thing is heading for, and it’s gonna blow all over its sparkly face.
In that crucial moment, a man comes out of nowhere and pinches Main B’s neon-clad behind. And what’s our strong female protagonist reaction, you ask? Punch the moron square in the face, of course. Gerwig appears to have no fukken clue how law enforcement works. We get mugshots for both Main Barbie and for some reason Main Ken too. Also, cue fingerprints collection sprinkled with more outdated lasciviousness from the cops. There’s a swine joke around here somewhere, but I’m gonna let you find it on your own.
Because some of the unwanted comments stemmed from their clothing, Main Barbie decides they need new outfits. They end up in equally laughable pseudo-cowboy get-ups. Without money to pay for those, we circle back to the police station. Toss more fingerprints collection and sleazy comments to round up the LOLs.
Main Barbie’s hotness grants them freedom (because why the fuck no?), and Mistress sends Boy-Toy away. She needs solitude to connect with her child. Not her inner child, this ain’t that kind of film— the kid messing with her fabulousness, duh.
This impromptu distance from the object of his affection gives Main Ken time to explore this new world. He sees men being pretty like him but also assertive and in control. His eyes and his heart are open to relish in the testosterone pervading the city’s atmosphere.
BARBIE CONTINUES ITS TIMEY-WIMEY SHENANIGANS IN A MONTAGE OF TOXIC (?) MASCULINITY THAT FOR SOME REASON INCLUDES PRESIDENT CLINTON, THE CURRENCY PRESIDENTS, JOHN TRAVOLTA DURING “GREASED LIGHTNIN’” AND STALLONE AT THE HEIGHT OF HIS HOTNESS WEARING FUR COATS AMONGST OTHER ALLEGEDLY MACHO THINGS.
Meanwhile, our heroine is accessing the Akashic Records. Nah. Not those because, once again, this is not that kind of movie. We just get some boring visuals of a girl outgrowing and playing with dolls and her current location. Since it’s 2023 you have three guesses as to the race of the child! I’ll get back to you on that one in a bit.
A single tear escapes Main Barbie as she opens her eyes. She realizes something inside her hurts but not in a bad way. She looks around and sees people of all ages experiencing life. The imagery tells us is a park, with the sun and the trees and the children. Still, melancholy emanates from almost every human the camera focuses on, even the kids. And the music in the background doesn’t help matters. It’s the kind of soundtrack you put in the scene with the pet funeral. Main Ken returns full of frantic energy, but he’s sidetracked to go with Main Barbie to her girl’s school.
NOW, HOLD ONTO YOUR GENDER-NEUTRAL UNDERWEAR BECAUSE BARBIE IS ABOUT TO DOUBLE DOWN ON THE CONVOLUTION. WE JUMP TO MATTEL HQ TO THE TUNE OF A MARCHING BAND. THE CAMERA PANS INSIDE THE SKYSCRAPER TO A BAY OF CUBICLES AND FOCUSES ON A MAN AS THE PHONE ON HIS DESK RINGS.
More of that discordant sense of humor is squirted on us. The FBI calls to tell Mattel two dolls are at large and they’d better wrangle their beasts. A random phone-answering employee needs to go upstairs to tell the higher-ups of the situation. His two male co-workers are scared because no one goes up. He might not even come back down. Of the three men in this equation, one is a ginger. I’m surprised the ginger is not the one going up because according to modern Hollywood redheads are disposable.
Also, more lore is thrown at us. We learn that ten years before whenever this fukkeri is happening another doll came to the real world. Apparently, a child got hurt in the ensuing shenanigans. Phone-answerer reaches the top floor, and we meet Latina Employee (America Ferrera). She gate-keeps (and it’s also a designer?) the entrance to the toy emporium’s inner sanctum. Even that meek scaredy-cat of a wuss is more potent than any woman in this fantasy world so he ignores her and crashes a meeting.
An underused Will Farrell plays Mattel CEO, and he ain’t happy about the two platinum bombshells running around his town. A manhunt, no, that is not appropriate 2023 speech, a human hunt? Wait, that can’t be it either because neither Main B nor M Ken is humans. Well, fuck it— fukkos need to fook off to find them genital-less plastic humanoids.
THE MARKETING PROPOSED A FUN EXPLORATION OF THE MOST FAMOUS DOLL’S LIFE. EVEN IF WE KNEW REAL LIFE WILL ENCROACH ON HER QUEENDOM, BARBIE HOODWINKED US WITH THE PROMISE OF A LIGHTHEARTED JOURNEY. IT WAS ALL LIES. FILTHY GLITTERY LIES.
Hard cut to our non-biodegradable protagonists as they arrive at Our Matron of the Bratty Brats Academy for teenage clichés. And the trite shite ain’t just for the tweens. Main Barbie tells his sidekick she’s feeling some kind of unfocused apprehension she can’t understand. A lady overhears her and woman-explains B is feeling anxiety because kids are horrible. When Ken comments he’s doing great, she scoffs invoking some ancient knowledge about fathers having it easy with teenagers. That should be another strike, but we still have another hour to go. Also, no amount of strikes can wrestle the bat from this byotch.
So Tweedle Barbie and Tweedle Ken are separate. He goes to the library to check books on cars, and she sashays in search of her whatever. When the object of her complications is at hand, a girl stops Barbie because you cannot just approach such a goddess. Dumb story short, wait— long; it’s supposed to be long. Our Latin Bundle of Joyless dismisses Barbie surrounded by her multi-ethnic entourage. Obviously, after a tirade about consumerism, body issues, female empowerment, and the taxation of flour during the French Revolution. Sorry, got distracted by all the bullshit coming out of her tiny underage mouth.
I am so fukken tired of the sourly girl who thinks she knows better than all the adults around her troupe. Especially, because this one is Latina. She happens to be the daughter of the Mattel GateKeeper, and we later learn she also has a father at home. So exactly why is this ungrateful little bad word angry at the world? I wish there was an abuela around. A healthy dose of chancleta would put her back on track.
NEARING MINUTE 43 THE WORD PATRIARCHY IS UTTERED FOR THE FIRST TIME, AND BARBIE, THE FILM, WILL NEVER EFFING SHUT UP ABOUT IT AFTER THAT. I’VE HEARD ABOUT DRINKING GAMES WITH IT, AND HONESTLY, THERE ARE BETTER REASONS TO PASS OUT CONSUMING ALCOHOL.
Thanks to the library, of all places, our boy M Ken learns that there’s more in life than being a woman’s accessory. A social system where men rule actually exists, and he’s ready to be part of it. On the nose cannot begin to describe what follows. We’ll see the movie trudge about— contradicting and debunking itself left, right, and center. It should be hilarious, but it’s fukken sad.
We follow Ken as he tries to get positioned because he’s a man. This doesn’t work since he has no experience, knowledge, or any of those things you need to be able to actually do a job. Now, remember that in Barbie Land, you only need to be a Barbie to have a job, any job— all the jobs. Our blond hunk discovers the real world doesn’t work that way. But you can’t tell that to those in Hollywood who write for shows about franchises they don’t even like. Oops.
Nevertheless, Mattel bloodhounds find a crying Barbie outside Sourly Teenage Latin Brat’s school. Forget logic or timeline because Ken is right there too. He sees his One-And-Only voluntarily get in the car with the sinister henchmen. Confident that she’ll be fine because these are Mattel agents, after all, he decides to return to Barbie Land. He’s armed with a pocket full of sunshine and a bunch of books about masculinity.
Coincidence is the sharpest tool in the lazy-writing shed; thus, Ferrara is also there, picking up her obnoxious brat. The kid says some disparaging shit about Barbie, clueing Ferrara to her identity. This is to set up a later car chase for no particular reason, but what are you gonna do?
I ENDURED BARBIE AT A LATE-NIGHT VIEWING, AND VERY FEW JOKES/SITUATIONS MADE THE GROWN-ASS AUDIENCE LAUGH. WAS THIS SUPPOSED TO BE A COMEDY, A PARODY, AN EXISTENTIAL DIATRIBE? WE DIDN’T LEAVE THE THEATER MAD; WE WERE JUST DISAPPOINTED.
I’m gonna jump a lot of shite here because what follows is unfunny corporate shenanigans. We’ll also fast-forward a scene very disrespectful to the memory of Barbie’s creator Ruth Handler. The disrespect will get worse at the end, but we’re not going to elaborate here. Suffice it to say that the inspiration for Barbie was a European doll based on an adult comic. A sexy girl who faced the world, using her beauty and smarts to further herself but never hating men.
LIFE IN PLASTIC
We discover that the human messing with Main Barbie’s aura is not the Brat but her mother. The traveling montage also changes Bad-word Brat’s clothes from baggy dark to fit colorful. Once in Barbie Land, America Ferrera becomes Preachy Barbie because in this YasQueendom every female is something; thus, her daughter turns out to be Contradictory Barbie.
The trio reaches the beach; where they discover the Kens have taken over. All the Barbies are enthralled by the boys’ newfound masculinity and abjectly serve them. Even Barbie President is distributing beers around using a little waitress tray.
If we must make the president not-Caucasian can we start using a different race now? What about some actual universality for a change? ‘Cause you understand it ain’t dIvErSiTy if you only ping-pong between two things, right? And with that, I’m almost done.
ACCORDING TO BARBIE, THE FILM, THESE EMPOWERED SMART DOLLS WERE EASILY DUPED INTO COMPLIANCE. IS THE MOVIE REALLY TELLING US THEY WEREN’T AS POWERFUL AND STRONG AS THEY WERE PORTRAYED BEFORE?
So, the Barbiengers go to the perpetrator’s MOJO DOJO CASA HOUSE to confront him. Ken’s MDCC has become a selling smash hit— to the movie’s detriment due to its insistence on self-punching its face. How is this possible, a thinking person would ask? What happens in the real world affects Barbie Land, not the other way around. Don’t Worry Darling (2022), this movie cannot handle its own mechanics.
Boobs, Brat, and Ma devise a plan to rescue the brainwashed Barbies. They use a longwinded diatribe vomited by Preachy Barbie about the hardships of womanhood as a brain cleanser. You remember on the nose, agenda, and dissonance have been mentioned before, right? They kidnap, sorry, retrieve each Barbie, deprogram her, and use that one to bring others to the matriarchy’s bosom. More convoluted shit happens, and Barbie Land returns to an even more ridiculous than before status quo.
ART IS SUBJECTIVE, BUT YOU CAN’T SAY THE SAME ABOUT AGENDAS. BARBIE DOESN’T SUGGEST WOMEN WOULD BE BETTER RULERS, IT PROUDLY SCREAMS IT. NEVERTHELESS, YOU ONLY NEED TO LOOK AT THE NEWS TO REALIZE THAT AIN’T ALWAYS THE CASE .
Looking at you Congress, House of Representatives, and (of course) the Supremest Supreme Courtship; so heavily featured in this film for some reason. There are awful lawmakers of all genders and persuasions, but not according to this movie.
Main Barbie isn’t written as the stereotypical Mary Sue; yet, they sure went out of their way to make Main Ken a villain. But that blew up in their faces because he happens to be the best part of the movie. Gerwig wrote this film with her (male) life partner; yet, I have no doubts as to who wields the biggest strap-on, sorry, pen in that household.
Main Barbie, the ultimate embodiment of Barbie-ness, Our Lady Prime leaves Barbie Land to become a human. Why the fuck would she do that when she just “rescued” the other females from the grasp of the Kens? She gives her boy-toy a speech with zero substance, resolving nothing of his issues, and fucks off; the same issues that incited the takeover.
Funny how she goes to California, where she can actually have a career. Is she planning to visit those places where women cannot access education or even drive with her new human autonomy? Will she adopt a couple of orphans to understand motherhood? Of course not, she’s probably getting a job as a writer in Hollywood after that lady-parts doctor visit.
The worst thing about this movie is that it not only failed to entertain me, it annoyed me. It’s like going out with that acquaintance that keeps telling silly jokes and elbowing you with each one. They think they’re funny, but you just want to kick them somewhere soft. Or going to a foreign country and without understanding or having any knowledge you decide to change their culture because it does not match yours.
WHO WAS BARBIE MADE FOR? FOR SUCH A COLORFUL MOVIE, ITS MESSAGE IS FRANKLY SAD AND COLORBLIND: A DEFEATED WORLD WHERE THERE’S NO POINT BECAUSE WE’RE PROGRAMMED TO DOMINATE EACH OTHER.
The extreme existential bullshit ain’t for kiddies; the wonky mechanics and contrivances are certainly not for grownups. So what the fukkity fook? Did every single female writer in Hollywood have a shitty father? Awful destructive brothers? Dismissive male teachers? Have they never encountered one positive representation of masculinity in their lives?
These ladies only know how to write either shitty toxic dudes or weak bumbling guys. It’s tiresome and boring. How are you calling out men for not knowing how to write real women when you yourself can only produce outdated clichés? I’m surprised they didn’t throw in a token gay character to round up the “real world.” Right, that China marketplace.
This film could have avoided “the patriarchy” storyline completely and focused on Barbie mending the strained relationship between mother and daughter; that would’ve been a really compelling human story. Or have Barbie return to find her land divided between those wanting to embrace Kendom and those fighting to keep the matriarchy; you know, actual mentally strong females defending their way of life. But no, that would take imagination and storytelling capabilities, and that shit ain’t a real thing in 2023; today, we’re told what to think, even if the images contradict what we’re being fed.
Interestingly, Time Magazine printed a survey in 1927 of several US stores on gender-appropriate colors. The results were nearly split, with 60 percent ascribing pink to boys. During this period, fashion and department stores ran stories on colors and how they should be used. Some described pink as a shade of red, arguing it was fundamentally masculine and therefore best suited for baby boys—especially when the only other option is blue, a gentle color and symbol of virginity. #TheMoreYouKnow
5 out of 10 because Mojo Dojo Casa House was the best thing about this glittery Vagmonologue.
Barbie is currently in theaters, watch at your own peril.
